


Shine On, You Crazy Diamond

by bikuai



Category: Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Mutual Pining, the majority of the fic is pining, this fic takes place on Gemworld, you are a gem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-03-09 19:19:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18923395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bikuai/pseuds/bikuai
Summary: Come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine!





	1. Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> I finally started reading the comics, and I think Kon and Lophi make a cute pair. What a nice, genuine, platonic farming family they make. They probably rotate crops for fun or something.
> 
> Anyway, the title is based off the song by Pink Floyd. I personally like Part 1–5 better than 6–9, but this isn’t really a song fic, so don’t worry about listening to the song. You’re not missing out.

There was scarcely a man in Gemworld that left so little to be desired. The way his clothing clung to his figure, the sheer confidence he radiated, and the debonair look in his ultramarine eyes never failed to set your cold, diamond heart aflutter. As such, it almost hurts to watch as Kon-El works the fields of the neighboring farm.

The waves of grain keel at the swing of his scythe, eventually to be rolled and tied by the other farmer in the field. One you had known—and somewhat despised—for the better part of the last two harvest seasons. Lophi follows far behind Kon, bundling the heavy bounty of wheat into sheaves and then stacking those into piles scattered throughout the field. 

A part of you knows that you should be out tending your own field—the sun has nearly left the horizon. Yet, the thought of harvesting in your sluggish manner while Kon and Lophi make quick work of their grain keeps you huddled in the farmhouse. It only serves to remind you how out of place you are in the countryside. Even with a nice farmhouse and a decent ribbon of land for growing, you often find yourself caught up in more favorable pursuits. At the very least, your skills allowed you to make ends meet, and sometimes pay farmhands to work the fields for you.

But not this year. You will have to do it all yourself this time. Your pastries had sold pitifully compared to past years, and your savings have run short as a result.

Groaning, you slide off the window seat and toss the book you’d been skimming to the couch. You stretch as you walk to the back door and grab your overalls. As unflattering as they are, they're quite practical for the task at hand. It takes you only a second to slip into them and tighten the straps. A quick look in the mirror tells you that you look the part, causing a twinge of happiness to sprout in your chest. If only Kon could see you now.

Before you know it, you're at the head of the field, scythe in hand, and ready to get this bread. You try to ignore the distant sound of your neighbors' chatter as you get to work. A steady pace in your movements emerges, and you embrace it, pushing through the first wave of fatigue in your arms.

After about fifteen minutes of swinging, the ache in your shoulders begins to creep into your back. Throwing down your reaper, you twist this way and that to relieve the soreness in your muscles. You look back at the distance you've covered and are quite proud of your work. A long line of felled grain lies between you and the start of the row.

However, looking ahead and seeing the remaining fifty or so acres brings tears to your eyes. At your current speed, it would take you nearly two months to cut all the grain, not taking into account the rolling, tying, and threshing that would need to be done afterward.

You groan, partially due to the stretching of your tense muscles, and partially because you are not looking forward to harvesting grain for the rest of the summer. As you start on the next row, you can't help but wonder why you ever agreed to move out here. How much easier would it have been to just sell off your share of the estate? You weren't even close with the one who decided to write you into their will; it had been a complete surprise to receive such a large inheritance. That day you remember well, walking to your bakery, only to find a sketchy looking lawyer claiming that you now owned a homestead in the luxurious countryside.

And now, here you are enjoying the "luxuries" of a farming lifestyle. Sweat rolls down your forehead as you trudge and hash through your field, arms shaking with the effort. You breathe in time with your movements to keep pace, but as your breath speeds up, you find yourself too exhausted to move.

Slinking down to the ground, you relish in the feeling of the warm burn in your arms and calves. You sigh and relax into a soft pile of wheat. You've done a lot of work today, evident by the several rows of flattened stalks in your wake. Half an acre should warrant a break, right?

Before you could debate it with yourself, a chill settles over you. It feels delightful against your feverish skin, and you know it can’t be just a cloud. Your eyes flutter open. Eclipsing the sun is a figure standing—no, hovering—over you. The sun bestows a heavenly corona upon him, silhouetting his form against the clear blue sky. His voice carries down to you like soft music.

"You alright down there?"

You try to answer, but your position is to your disadvantage, and you find yourself coughing viciously, dust and saliva tickling your throat.

Kon-El watches at first, but when you continue to choke on nothing, he descends to your side. You wonder what he sees: a crazy diamond in over their head or a hopeless farmer collapsed in the field? You're heaving by the time he lands and helps you into a sitting position. His hand rests on your shoulder as you recover from your coughing fit, and his eyes never leave your face. With a twist in your stomach, you realize that you've never been this close to him before. It's almost unreal, the ridges of muscle under his tight bodysuit, the ever-so-gentle look in his sapphire eyes… A new wave of heat rolls through you, and sweat pools under your arms.

"Are you okay? (Name), isn't it?" He smiles, and you avoid his eyes bashfully.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine," you say, voice still hoarse. "Thanks for asking."

"No problem," he replies, standing and offering you his hand.

You take it graciously, and he pulls you up with unexpected strength. He moves to leave as you dust yourself off, but by some impulse, you call out to him.

"Hey, Kon?" He turns in midair at the sound of your voice. "Uh, could you help me cut my wheat?"

He looks off in the distance, toward Lophi's farm. An unreadable look flashes across his face before he answers. "I'm kinda busy right now. How about tomorrow?"

"Yeah! That's fine," you say, a bit too eagerly. You hurry to correct yourself. "I mean, if you're not doing anything, then yeah."

"I'll see you at dawn then, (Name). Bye."

He takes off like a rocket, and the shockwave he emits rattles your bones. You wonder what has him in such a hurry but then remember that he still has his own fields to tend to. You could never have imagined that someone could be so enthusiastic about farming. But you guess it is to your advantage in the long run. Now you have the power of a god to help reap your harvest.

The rest of the day is spent in your other fields. The morganite melons were almost ready to be picked, the opal onion tops were just starting to dry, and on your way to the shed, you evaluated the small square plot you used for crystal sugar cane. Choosing the ripest looking stalk, you felled it with a deft swing from your machete. After finding an adequate balance of the stalk on your shoulders, you continued to your tool shed. It was no more than a wooden shack on the eastern edge of your field, sitting alongside the fence. The door creaks open as you nudge it with your foot, and the setting sun just barely illuminates the dark interior.

As you set your tools back on the shelf, a weary smile forms on your face. Tomorrow, Kon is going to work with  _ you _ in  _ your _ field; it's almost a dream. This is your chance to grow closer to him as a neighbor, a friend, maybe even more than that. And of course, the accelerated workflow is a super bonus; if you're lucky, it won't take more than two weeks to finish cutting and tying the field.

It's a long walk back to the farmhouse. Your feet shuffle through the grass as the last patches of daylight slip away. Kon doesn't leave your mind, even as you hop over branches and twigs. Even as you pull open the back door, toss away your overalls, and shower away the dirt and dust of the day. His face still lingers in your thoughts as you slip into your nightclothes and collapse into bed.

Though you are exhausted and want nothing more than a night of rest, sleep does not come to you easily. The thought of getting to know Kon makes you too anxious to sleep. Ever since he arrived three months ago, you've been idly looking for chances to talk to him. Yet, you're often too busy baking, planting, or milking to have time for a casual conversation. You are only one person, after all. And even then, if you manage to maneuver into his sights, you would have to deal with Lophi, your longtime rival. It was your sharpest stroke of bad luck that she—of  _ all _ people—happened to be the one to befriend him first.

Groaning into your pillow, you cringe at the memory of the day you first met Kon.

It had been an overcast evening. The moon crystals potted in front of your house needed tending, and who were you to deny them? On your knees, shaping the bulbs with your carbon carving knife, you heard Lophi's voice lilt through the night air. Keeping your head focused on your work, you let your eyes drift to Lophi and her mysterious companion. You knew better than to be nosy, but when it came to your eastern neighbor, you couldn't help yourself. Ever since she beat you in the 58th Annual Gem Cake Bake-Off, animosity flowed between you like a white-water tributary.

Lophi and the stranger practically waltzed up the walkway, laughing and remarking on the climate. As they approached the house, you got a full view of her rather... _ charming _ companion. Immediately, you put down the pot you were working on and crawled over to ones on the edge of the house. From there, you could see him, and with a smile that could melt your cold, crystalline heart, he turned and met your eyes.

Warmth welled up your neck to rest in your cheeks. For a second, the world stopped, and you were only vaguely aware of Lophi's irked gaze. The stranger waved, the motion raising his jacket to show the tight t-shirt underneath. You waved back on instinct; though, your heliodor-encrusted hand shovel was still in hand, successfully showering you with dirt.

He laughed as you shook out your hair. Waves of fire fill your face, and a lump of bashful nerves settles in your throat. You looked back to your potted gems and ignored the sound of their now hushed conversation. It wasn't hard to guess what Lophi might be saying; you just huffed and got back to work. The sound of Lophi shutting the door behind them and the ideas that tormented you afterward...they kindled a simmering contempt in your soul.

It wasn't until a time later that you rallied the courage to ask Lophi about her new companion. When she answered that he was a farmhand from out of town, you almost collapsed in relief. Since then, every spare second was dedicated to the arduous task of getting Kon's attention to land on you and your meager attributes.

At least now you have that chance. The only hard part is being bold enough to take it. Even as you lie in the darkness of your room, you can't help but feel that slight piece of dread, gnawing at your heart.

_ What if he doesn't want this? _

It would make sense. A flawless sapphire of his carat wouldn't be caught dead with a synthetic gem, diamond or otherwise. If he ever found out or managed to deduce it himself, there's no chance he'd even want to look at you, much less have a relationship. 

That hurts to think about, so you push the negative thoughts to the back of your mind to curb the oncoming dejection. You aren't super ideal, but you have more than a few things going for you.

You look down at the mound in the sheets that represents your body. You have near-perfect clarity, the envy of most natural diamonds. That's definitely something. You also call to mind all the skills and characteristics that have ever graced your arsenal. Across the room, your several Gem Cake Bake-Off trophies glitter in the pale moonlight. Bolstering your confidence, you think:

_ What am I kidding? Who  _ doesn't _ want this? _

 

***

 

The sound of knocking wakes you from a sultry dream. You shift under the comforter, sitting up to look around the room. Pink sunlight filtered through the shades on the window, casting strips of shadow throughout your room. A strange form disrupts the shadows layering your bed. Bleary-eyed, you turn to watch the strange figure outside your window. The break of dawn contrasts its silhouette and illuminates the side of your face.

_ Huh. When did that tree get there? _

In your half-consciousness, you don't quite put two and two together. It's not until he moves closer, knocking harder on the glass, that you realize—albeit slowly—who is at your window.

Cursing, you scramble out of bed and stumble to the window. It takes you a second tug away the blinds and unlatch the window, but when you pull it up, Kon looks just as radiant as usual. He's smiling down at you, scythe in hand. If he's been waiting long, he doesn't show it.

"Good morning, (Name)."

"Hey, could you give me a sec? I promise I'll be down, then we can—"

He tilts his head in bewilderment, then a laugh rife with amusement bubbles up. "Oh, don't rush yourself. I've already started on the field. We have plenty of time."

"Oh, thanks," you say, awkwardly readjusting your nightgown. "How much have you done so far?"

"I don't know, maybe ten?" He shrugs.

"Ten rows?!" You gasp. There's no way… At longest, he's only been working an hour.

He shakes his head. "No, about ten acres. I can't be sure, though; you might want to install land measures for your field, y'know."

Your eyes widen in spite of the nonchalant look he gives you. Here you are, gaping at him, while he's totally unfazed by his god-like powers. It takes all your willpower not to swoon out the window, right then and there. Fumbling for words, you struggle to put together a cohesive sentence.

"That's...impossible. I mean, that's... _ amazing! _ How can you do that?" Your eyes scan his body; he hasn't even broken a sweat and yet, almost a quarter of your field was cut. It would have taken you at least a week of hard work to accomplish what he'd done in only an hour.

"I'm half Kry—uh, well, I'm just sorta…" He stutters then gives you a lopsided shrug. “I was born this way,” he finishes. Sensing his discomfort, you change the topic.

"Kon, come inside. I'm making you breakfast." You step away from the window and wave him in. He floats through gracefully, and his feet meet the hardwood without a sound. As you amble from your bedroom to the bathroom, you shout back to him. "Make yourself comfortable downstairs. I'll be there in a minute."

It takes longer than that; part of you knew it would. The second the door shuts behind you, the butterflies flutter up your throat, threatening to burst into giggles. A hysterical smile stretches across your face as you get ready for the day. Your cheeks are sore by the time you pull on your best shirt and roll up its sleeves. After giving yourself a quick pep talk, you slap on your “you bake me crazy”  baseball cap and bound down the stairs. Kon is milling around the living room, inspecting the antique—and likely expensive—furniture pieces. His eyes catch yours when you reach the last step, but you manage to keep your composure as you stride past him.

Kon follows you into the real  _ gem _ of the house: your kitchen. It was the first renovation you’d made to the house, less than a month after you’d moved in. Days like today make you very grateful that you did.

You hustle through the kitchen, grabbing all the utensils you need for a big breakfast. You almost drop the tube of oats when you turn around and he is there, all up in your kitchen.

“Need any help with...all this?” He motions to the several ingredients set aside on the island.

“No, I think I’m fine here,” you say as you grab a bowl from behind him. “I’m a whiz in the kitchen if nothing else. It’s kinda my  _ thing _ .”

"I can tell; that’s quite a trophy collection you got up there," Kon remarks, as you begin to mix flour, sugar, and milk. “Lophi said that you had the longest streak of consecutive wins ever.”

You sneer at the mention of her name. “I’m sure she did,” you mutter. Lophi was the one who broke your streak, after all. It takes effort to keep the memory from souring your mood, and you are quick to change the subject. “How do you take your eggs?”

“I’ll have what you’re having,” he responds, idly tucking his hands in his pockets.

A moment is spent deciding, egg hovering over the pan, before you give in and break the egg into the bowl of batter. A morning without omelettes? Not the end of the world. After you finish whisking the bowl to perfection, you pour it into the oiled pan on the stove. You watch it intently, spatula in hand, as you wait for the right moment.

When you feel it is ready, you flip it and give it a firm push back into the pan. Once both sides are a beautiful shade of golden brown, you slide the pancake onto a plate waiting beside the stove. A couple more pours and flips later, you have a stack of pancakes piled high on the plate next to you. Kon reaches for it, but you stop him.

“I’m not done yet,” you say, moving to tend to the oatmeal and bacon on the other burners. “But if you'd like, you can go get the orange juice from the icebox.”

When he steps away to find it, you relax. Without the feeling of him watching over your shoulder, you fall into the familiar patterns of the kitchen. The stirring and flipping and tasting: it’s what you were made for. And despite your anxiety about it, it feels nice to cook for someone else every once in a while. Especially if that someone is a kindhearted and beautiful infatuation of yours.

Kon is already sitting at the table when you set down the plates, laden with hearty, aromatic food. The sugar cane you cut yesterday came in handy, providing a delectably sweet hint to the oatmeal, alongside some quartz cinnamon you had been saving. The bacon you kept simple, served with a bowl of freshly cut fruit. You organize the dishes in perfect formation: symmetric across  _ both _ axes.

As you inspect the placement of the table, it occurs to you that something is missing. You gasp. How could you have forgotten? After rushing back into the kitchen, you scan the counters and tear open the cabinets until you find it: your bread box. You carry it as you would a baby and head back into the dining room. Kon gives you an odd look at the way you are caressing the container, but when you set it down, he notices the finer details in its structure. 

You sit across from him and motion to the bread. "Try it. It's a favorite recipe of mine."

Kon raises a brow but takes a slice from the loaf. Heart beating in your throat, you watch his expression. The way his eyes flutter, the way his brow furrows, and the moan as the flavor spreads over his tongue… Part of you dies at the table right there. He  _ likes _ it—he  _ really _ likes it. A heart-warmed smile graces your face at the sight. Kon notices and responds with a smile full of mirth.

"This is delicious. I see why you've won so many awards; this is unlike anything I've ever tasted," he says, piling his plate up with food.

You laugh breathlessly, pouring yourself a glass of thick, pulp-free juice. "Well, this one hasn't won anything—not yet at least. I could use it for next year's Bread Baking Bonanza, but it might be too sweet. Or I could add some pyrite pecans to balance the flavor. There's a lot of choices, actually." You go on further about the ingredients and methods used in your pastries, with Kon occasionally adding his own material.

He is genuinely interested in your profession; it's apparent through his laughter at your anecdotes and thoughtful responses to your questions. You can't remember the last time someone was this invested in you and your feelings and your opinions. That realization strikes you through the heart, causing your skin to heat up under your collar. Are you really this starved of attention? Considering your ill-favored origins, you suppose so.

Before he can question you further, you decide to twist the conversation to his personal life, of which you know very little about. It occurs to you that you never asked, yet you find it odd that he never mentioned much of anything about himself. A sapphire of his carat surely ought to have  _ some _ interesting things in their background.

"Kon, if I may ask, how  _ did _ you get into farming? You don't, uh, look the type," you say around a mouthful of pancakes. 

"It's in my blood. Well, half of it anyway," he replies. "My dad grew up on a farm, and I've always had a soft spot for country life myself, so I guess living here is kinda perfect for me."

You nod in understanding. "I agree. You're really good at it too, by the way. I don't think I've ever seen someone cut a field so quickly."

"Oh, it's nothing really. The wider rows make for an easier harvest," Kon shrugs, leaning back in his chair.

"Don't be so modest; you're probably the best farmer I know. It's an honor to have your help with my field," you admit as you set aside your plate. "Speaking of which, we still have work to do this morning. You can meet me out back when you're done."

You stand, gathering the empty plates, but Kon stops you before you make it to the kitchen.

"I got this. Go ahead and get started with the tying; I'll be there in a sec," he says as he stacks the plates in the sink.

You open your mouth to object, but in a rush of air, the table is cleared, the plates are soaking, and the leftovers are packaged accordingly. Dumbfounded, you stand in the midst of a tumultuous gale while the after-image of Kon blurs around the kitchen. Without thinking, you approach the illusion and stick your hand in, not knowing what to expect. He stops immediately, eyes refocusing on you as he jolts out of superspeed. It takes you a second to realize what has happened, but when you do, you retract your arm in embarrassment.

"Woah," you breathe, astonished. "You're really fast." You cringe inwardly at your obvious statement, but he just smirks and gets back to doing the dishes. You never thought you would get to know a gem with such abilities, much less one that uses them on a farm, of all places. But you guess something similar could be said about yourself. Why would an eye-clean diamond like yourself be out sweating on a farm in Topaz? As you select your best pair of overalls, an inkling of suspicion comes to your mind. Maybe you’re not the only one with secrets? However, the thought is forgotten as you step out the door.

 

***

 

By now, the sun is well above the horizon. It lights the field in an amber glow, highlighting the rows upon rows of felled grain. After seeing his display in the kitchen, it isn't hard to believe that Kon did all of this so quickly. You try not to think too hard about the logistics of his god-like abilities as you tie the wheat into sheaves. The process isn't too difficult, and your movements pick up speed as you work.

You're about halfway down the row when Kon emerges from the farmhouse. He doesn't look fatigued nor out of breath as he flies over the field to continue his work. His resolve is admirable, leaving a renewed fervor in your harvesting. A measured cadence forms in your mind and body—something between an upbeat waltz and a rock opera medley.

This established workflow continues well into the day, occasionally disrupted when you move to stack the sheaves into shocks. There comes a point where Kon returns to your side and begins to tie wheat, leading you to assume that all of the field has been cut. He gives you a berth of a few rows, but that quickly grows to several as the soreness in your back sets in. You slow your pace and stretch out your limbs in an attempt to curb the ache reawakened from yesterday's work.

You achieve temporary relief with your efforts; however, the somewhat frequent breaks you take do not fly under Kon's radar. After hearing a particularly uncomfortable crack come from your vertebrae, he superspeeds the remainder of his row. It isn't long before he's at your side, hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, maybe you should take it easy for a little bit. There's no rush." His smile comforts you, but you can't help but feel like a burden.

Bashfully, you look away and gauge the impressive number of rows you had finished. You want to keep working, but a break is looking pretty attractive right about now. You capitulate:

"Okay, I'll rest for a while, then I'll be right back to work," you yawn, stretching your arms high above your shoulders.

Apparently relieved, Kon flies to his place in the field and resumes his sheaving. You, on the other hand, promenade aimlessly out of the field of grain, casting occasional glances back at Kon. Your heart flutters in acknowledgement of his compassion and selflessness. The two of you are just getting to know one another, yet he’s aware of the slightest discomfort that passes over you. Your throat constricts as heat rises to your cheeks. You curse your touch-starved heart for becoming so weak at the most basic affections. For a diamond, you really had no resolve when it came to romantic affairs.

You find yourself in the orchard, sitting with your back to a tree heavy with andesine apples. Even under the shade, you pull your cap off to fan yourself. The cool breeze feels good against your clammy skin. You lean back and close your eyes, letting your tired muscles relax. The tree isn’t that comfortable, but you manage to find a position that puts the least amount of strain on your body. You close your eyes, knowing you won’t reach sleep; you just don’t want to see anything.

Without the distraction of sight, you focus on the sounds of the orchard: the rustling branches, the birds in the distance, all intertwined with the sound of...sprinklers? The rhythmic pattering of water against leaves sounds so refreshing, and you can practically feel the cool mist on your skin. Your eyes peel open, looking for the source.

Farther west, in the carnelian carrot patch, the regularly scheduled irrigation is starting. The arching sprays of water appear to dance in the gentle breeze, and you are tempted to go play amidst them as you often used to do. The only thing stopping you is your promise to return to the field; you don’t feel like working in sopping wet clothing. There is also the issue of smelling like carrot water for the rest of the day, but you suppose that is better than smelling like sweat and dirt.

After weighing the consequences in your head, you come to a decision: you would run through the sprinklers...once. Long gone are the days of spending half an hour impeding the irrigation of your crops. This time you would exercise self-control and return to work as soon as you were done. You loosen your overalls and slide out of them, leaving your dress shirt and cargo pants on. You toss the denim garment beside the tree along with your hat, then take off toward the vegetable gardens.

Your feet fly over the ground with a gratuitous exuberance. For a diamond, you had quite the arsenal of unguarded emotions. Before you even step foot in the garden, a radiant smile is lighting your features. There's not a moment wasted as you sprint through the spray of water, arms outstretched. The irrigation system does its job well, thoroughly showering you as you dash between the leafy stalks. Despite your promise not to waste time in the water, you zig-zag and spiral to maximize your exposure.

Damp and bursting with laughter, you emerge on the other side of the field. It feels as though you've surfaced from the fountain of youth, and your appearance reflects that. Droplets of water cling to your skin and your hair, glistening like diamonds. You shake them off and enjoy the sudden chill as air makes contact with your wet body. You aren’t as soaked as you thought you would be, but the dark patches on your clothes are clear evidence of your escapade. 

A heavy sigh leaves you as you try to catch your breath. It takes some effort not to collapse under the simple pleasure of getting to cool off on a hot day. It won't take long to dry, though, so you sit with your legs outstretched and hands entwined in the grass. Chest heaving, you realize that you probably spend more time laying in your fields than working in them. You make a mental note to work on that.

A stark twinge of deja-vu strikes you when a cloud passes over the sun. It's hard to think that just yesterday was your first real moment with Kon. Part of you is still in disbelief, wondering what made him agree to work in your field. Whatever the reason, his presence alone lights up your day and takes your mind off the drudgery of farm work. And now, you don't consider it too bold to classify him as your friend. Pretty good progress, all things considered.

Although you find much delight in the logistics of your maybe-not-so-hopeless pining, it feels nice to clear your mind ever so often. It's one of the few things that became easier since moving to the countryside. The utter lack of stimulus was boring at first, but you have come to appreciate it. Relaxing back into the grass, you trace the paths of clouds in the sky. Sometime later, your eyes must have slipped shut, for when Kon lands beside you, he goes unnoticed.

"You do this a lot, y'know."

You jump at the sound of his voice, and your heart skips a beat. When did Kon get here? And when did he become so quiet?

"You almost gave me a heart attack! Don't do that!" You exclaim, vexation lacing your tone.

He ignores your outburst and stands, looking down at you. "You lay around in your field a lot. No wonder your summer crops haven't been harvested," he shakes his head in mock disdain. "What would you have done without me?"

"Uh...I don't know. Farming isn't really my thing as you can tell," you laugh dryly, still recovering from the shock of his arrival.

Kon smiles and offers you his hand. "I mean, you aren't half bad when you're actually working, but it's obvious you don't find much enjoyment in it. Makes me wonder why you have such a nice big farm all to yourself."

He's curious but not pushing for an answer. How considerate. You shove your hands in your pockets and start back towards the field. "It's a long story; I'm not sure if you'd want to hear it."

He comes up beside you and matches his pace to yours. "Well, we have time if nothing else. You think I'm gonna leave you to pick all these crops by yourself?"

You don't reply, pleasantly surprised by his offer. Things just keep getting better and better, don't they? To think that just yesterday, the two of you had never even spoken. A laugh bubbles up before you can stop it.

"What's so funny?" Kon asks, brow quirked.

You stifle your laughter enough to answer. "Nothing—It's just…why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?"

It takes him a while to answer, and for a second you're worried that you came off as ungrateful. Your fears are assuaged when he sighs and runs a hand over the back of his neck.

"My dad always said that good people get involved. I like to think that's what I'm doing when I help people like yourself."

"People like me? You mean helpless farmers?" You ask, incredulously.

"Yeah, something like that," he jokes.

The rest of the walk is silent, but not uncomfortably so. The dampness of your shirt feels nice under the shade of the orchard, almost causing you to forget about your discarded garments. Kon waits patiently as you throw on your hat and slip back into your overalls. You realize you haven't answered his question, but the look on his face tells you his mind is elsewhere. So you leave it, for now, and bask in the placid sounds of the farm.

 

***

 

Something comes over you as you approach the rows of felled wheat. You don't want Kon to think you're dodging his question; he deserves an explanation. He  _ is _ helping you with your field after all. You've never been able to get the feeling of being misplaced off your chest. Maybe talking about it will help—at least that's what you hope.

"I never really wanted this farm, y'know." Kon turns at the sound of your voice.

"It was given to me by some long lost benefactor that wrote me into their will. That's how I ended up moving all the way from the kingdom of Diamond to here." You shrug in indifference to your past home. There were some good memories there but not enough to make you stay. Not to mention all the not-so-great aspects of living in such a hubristic society.

"And now that I'm here," you continue, "I don't really have any friends, much less another diamond like me to confide in. Other gems tend to steer clear of us." You wrap your arms around yourself, looking out into the field to avoid meeting his eyes. By us, you meant lab-grown gems, not diamonds. Lab gems like you—diamonds especially—are heavily scorned by the naturals.

His response catches you off guard: "You're…a diamond?"

Your brow furrows in confusion; no one has ever asked you that. You always thought you looked diamond enough. "Yeah, isn't it obvious?"

Somewhat flustered, he rocks on his heels and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Well, I, uh, didn't want to make any assumptions."

A half sigh leaves your lips. "Don't worry, I get it," you reassure. "I'm not your typical stuck up, crystal-hearted princess cut."

He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it. The flash of uncertainty on his face is quickly dismissed, and he gives you a tight smile before flying back to his place in the field. Your eyes trail his path in the sky. He lands far south with his back to you, so you let your eyes linger on him.

He’s a  _ sapphire _ for gem’s sake; he probably has diamond friends that you’ve offended. You trudge back to where you left off, regretful of the tone you used with him. He was only being polite, but you had to bring attitude into it. Ugh. You shouldn’t have brought up such a touchy subject as your heritage, anyway.

You return to tying and stacking the sheaves of wheat in an attempt to discourage the awkward feeling mounting in you. You take a deep breath to alleviate your stress. Kon’s probably not mad at you, and you’re just being paranoid and overreacting as you often do. You sway between calm and anxious for the rest of the day. When the sun is nearly set, you throw down your last bundle of grain and meet Kon at the edge of the field.

His hair shifts gently in the oncoming chill of the night. He’s pulling off his gloves as you approach.

“Thanks for your help,” you start, interrupting the silence of the oncoming evening.

“Yeah, no problem. Same time tomorrow?” He asks, not meeting your eyes.

You shift your feet and rock your weight between them. “That sounds good, but, uh—” Your hands go to your hips, thumbs hanging from your belt loops. You sigh, “about what I said earlier: I actually am pretty stuck up.“

He surprises you with a lighthearted laugh. “Don’t worry about that. You’re cool.”

“Really?” You inquire.

“Totally. It was my fault for bringing it up, anyway. Sorry about that; I’m not from around here, and I’m still getting used to things.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” you assure His explanation makes sense; it isn’t common for diamonds to live outside of the kingdom, especially not this far north. It’s best to confirm your own suspicions now while you’re already on the topic. “So I guess you’re from House Sapphire, then?”

In his pockets, Kon’s hands clench into fists. “...Uh, yeah.”

You can tell the question has him on edge, and it is in your best judgement to not question him further. Instead, you take a step back, more than ready to return to the warmth of your home. The air has grown quite chilly without the warmth of the sun.

"Goodnight, Kon. See you tomorrow."


	2. Legend

The next days roll into weeks, all following the same pattern as the first. As promised, you and Kon move on to tending your neglected summer crops, which happens to be much more fun than harvesting wheat. With the height of summer behind you, all your fields begin to bear the fruits of your labor. Morganite melons and spinel strawberries burst with color, yielding to your gentle tug. Every day you return to the farmhouse with baskets full of produce, some to be preserved, some to be taken to market. It almost feels like a dream sometimes, yet you never could have imagined how well things would work out.

You can feel yourself growing closer to Kon. The tension is there, in every casual touch, every fleeting glance. He enjoys your company every bit that you do his. With the almost constant close contact, it's not farfetched to assume that he feels _something_ toward you. That presumption mellows your anxiety—you become more confident in his presence. You're on the cusp of something more; however, you can't help but hesitate to take that final step.

Rising to your toes, you take a peek over the manicured hedge of peridot plums. On the other side, Kon is sorting the green fruit from the ripe. It wouldn't take him more than a second in superspeed, but you've found that he prefers to match your pace. When asked about it, he'd looked you in the eye and replied: "Because I like spending time with you."  That memory fondly tickles your mind as watch him work. He must be able to feel your gaze, for when he puts down his basket, he turns to meet your eyes.

Undaunted, you hold his gaze. He responds in kind, raising a brow at the challenge. You stick your tongue out in response to his taunt, but quickly duck as he raises his arm, a chartreuse-hued apple in hand. It flies through the air and lands somewhere in the bushes behind you, but another one follows promptly, almost hitting its mark.

"Hey!" You shout. "That's not fair!" You gather your own bundle of unripe plums before tossing one over the hedge. Kon steps out of its path with a killer smirk.

"Is that all you got?" He goads, crossing his arms. It's an invitation, and he wants to know if you will take it.

You respond with a plum aimed at his head. A devilish look blossoms in his eyes as he plucks it from the air.

"Oh, it's _on_ now," he threatens.

That is your cue to run, and you do so without taking any ammunition. It would be in vain, for he is the predator now—you are his prey. Feet skimming the ground, you accelerate until all you can hear is the whip of air through your clothes. Quick gasps leave your lips. Your velocity flings your hat into the brush as sour fruit flies past you. Your legs carry you down the row as fast as they can while avoiding the rain of sour fruit from above. All of them are near misses, until a particularly soft fruit nails you in the shoulder. Breathless laughter bubbles up at the feeling, and you are prompted to run faster.

The thrill of the chase drives you from the plum patch and into the cover of the orange trees. With the thick branches overhead, Kon's aerial assault would be rendered ineffective. Careful not to trip on stray roots, you tuck yourself behind a short tangle of limbs to catch your breath. You’re light-headed and it feels as if your lungs aren’t satisfied by each deep gulp of air. Wetting your dry lips, you turn your attention to the entrance to the thicket As hoped, he lands at the mouth of the grove before continuing in on foot.

Chest throbbing with the beat of your heart, you watch Kon creep past the first threshold of trees. As he approaches your hiding spot, you pull a large, ripe orange from your tree. It's heavy in your hand and almost perfectly round. You anticipate the moment he turns away, exposing his blind spot. It only takes a second to plan its trajectory, yet when you launch the fruit, it only makes it halfway through its arc before it—and Kon—disappears. _Oh no._

You make a mess of your overalls scrambling through the root-covered underbrush of the orchard. As soon as you make it to your feet, you dash for the nearest break in greenery. Of course, knowing your luck, that happens to be a circular glade of overgrown grass. Surrounded on all sides by shadowy, citrus-scented thicket, you put your hands up in a defensive position. The adrenaline in your veins puts your senses on high alert, and you find yourself pivoting at every sound.

However, the next hit doesn't come from the shadows. You jump at the feeling and snap your head up, successfully getting an eyeful of rainwater. The accompanying roll of thunder leaves you perplexed—wasn't it sunny just a minute ago?

The cool sensation of the mounting drizzle washes away all the lingering adrenaline. Sighing, you move to make your way out of the orchard, but Kon emerges from the trees first. He approaches and holds his arms out in offering.

"May I?" He asks. It takes you a second to get what he's implying, but you nod, and he lifts you into his arms.

It's hard to look down as Kon flies you high over the fields of your farm. Be that as it may, you consider it easier than meeting his eyes. The way he holds you to his chest has your heart fluttering, the warmth of your proximity enhancing the feeling. It has never occurred to you that he might actually carry you somewhere, though now it seems to be an obvious—if not overly intimate—solution. Knowing that he was unabashed enough to ask if you were okay with this… Needless to say, you are aware of the possible implication of his new manner of affection toward you.

You almost don't want to let go when he lands under the shade of your back porch. Reluctantly, you unlink your arms from his neck, and he sets you down with care. By now, the rain has turned into a torrential downpour, pounding the roof with a dull roar.

“Go on inside without me. I’ll go bring in what we’ve picked so far.” His hand lingers on your shoulder before he superspeeds back out into the rain.

You take this time alone to change out of your sopping wet clothes and into a more comfortable set of dry ones. You’re rolling up the sleeves of your cotton blend button down when Kon steps through the door. He’s frighteningly dry; only a few raindrops still linger in his hair. Part of you means to ask him if hydrophobia is another one of his abilities, but a ground-shaking roll of thunder interrupts your thoughts.

“It’s really coming down out there,” Kon mutters, tugging back the curtains of the bay window in the sitting room. “Mind if I kick it here with you for the day?”

You approach his place by the window, so you could watch the effects of the thunderstorm outside. He isn’t lying; the cloudburst has managed to get even more violent than when you were outside. Wind and rain pelt the glass without mercy as another rumble of thunder shakes the house.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you grunt, heaving yourself onto the window seat and crossing your legs. “But there’s nothing that interesting for us to do here.”

Kon sits on the other side of the window and faces you. “That’s okay. We can just chill if you want.” A flash of lightning illuminates half of his face, accenting his final word. The following thunderclap fills the silence between you.

“Well, then, I think I’ll read something,” you say finally. Nothing like a good book to pass the time, right? You hope that Kon won’t mind. “Could you get me that box on the shelf behind you?

He stands gracefully and makes his way to the tall, black bookshelf against the wall. With a bit of your direction—you never noticed how many different crates you have up there—he grabs the box of books you had designated to be read later on. You think now is a good a time as ever to finally crack one open.

“Watch out: it’s heavy.” You warn needlessly as he carries the box back to you. He returns to his place on the cushion and places the box between the two of you. The lid flaps are closed but not taped shut, so you peel them back with ease. Inside are two stacks of books, one slightly higher than the other. On top is a surprisingly familiar novel with a color-splashed cover.

“I haven’t seen this book in ages!” You gasp. “I thought I’d lost it after I first moved here.” You hold it to your chest as you grab another book off the other stack “And see this one? I never got a chance to finish this series. I remember it being really good, but then the main character, like, gave up on their quest? Or something like that. I’ll need to read some of these again.”

There’s a moment of pure delight as you rediscover books that you hadn’t even thought of in years. And yet, you remember them vividly, like a dream. Just seeing the covers sends you into a volley of emotions, nostalgia among them. If you had known earlier that there are so many _gems_ in here, you would have been buried nose-deep in reading material. Taking into account the considerable number of books here, you estimate that it will take you at least a month or so to finish them, not taking into account any rereading you’d need to do.

“And this one?” You continue. “One of my favorite recipes is in here if I can find it.” You flip through the pages in anticipation but are pulled from your daze by Kon’s voice

“What about this one?” He holds up a black, leather-bound book. Its pages are yellowed, and its edges are shriveled with water damage. At the sight of it, your heart tightens in fear. _It can’t be._

You snatch the book from his hands before he can finish unlatching the strap. Ignoring the concerned look on his face, you hurriedly flip through the journal. Dread pools in your stomach as you glimpse the pages full of writing that is not quite yours. No, it _is_ yours, just messier and less organized. It is your handwriting from what feels like a lifetime ago. One coherent thought manages its way through the chaos of emotion tearing through you: _how does this still exist?_

“Hey, (Name)? Are you alright? I didn’t mean to—“

“I’m fine!” You choke out, sliding your childhood journal under your legs and out of his sight.

His eyes narrow at your statement. “I don’t think so. Whatever’s in that book has you all shaken up.”

“No! It’s nothing!” You desperately try to calm yourself while assuaging his worries as well. Revisiting your childhood would be hard enough without your crush sitting next to you. With him, it almost feels as if you’d burst from the effort. “Just don’t worry about it, okay? I’m fine.”

“I can’t help but worry when you look so upset. Here, just let me...” Kon places the other books back into the box and sets it on the floor before moving to sit by your side. He doesn’t say anything at first, just lays his hand over one of yours. When the gesture doesn’t seem to comfort you, he speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s in the book?”

You swallow thickly. “It’s my diary...from a long time ago,” you reply, hoping he’ll catch your intent and drop the topic.

“That’s not what I asked,” he murmurs in response. There’s no malice behind it, but you know he wants a real answer. He’s never been one to force you to reveal things about yourself, but at the same time, you don’t hide much from him. Only _this_ —this journal, this piece of your life—you have hidden.

Because it’s not every day you meet a diamond who was _synthesized_ in a lab.

You inhale sharply, steeling yourself for the most difficult conversation of your life. “In here there’s...my experiences growing up.”

He watches you fiddle with the hem of your sleeves. “Is this why you’ve never mentioned your family?”

“I don’t have a family.”

He flinches at your words, and you look away in shame. “That’s not true. You have people that care about you,” he responds. There’s something in his voice—worry, you think, or fear?

“I had no one until you,” you choke out, shaking your head. Admitting it aloud leaves you as vulnerable as you’ve ever been. You realize it now, how terribly lonely life was then, and you can’t imagine going back to that. Tears well in your eyes. “Please, Kon, you mean so much to me…” 

You trail off, your breathing becoming erratic. He must have understood what you were implying, for he pulls you into a tight embrace, murmuring reassurances as silent tears roll down your cheeks. In his arms, you don’t feel nearly as pathetic as you thought you would. Kon always has that type of effect on you; even when your chronic friendlessness has finally caught up with you, there’s some comfort you find in his presence. Kon knows that as well; he wouldn’t be here if he thought you didn’t enjoy his company.

Eventually, he goes silent beside you, content in rubbing circles on your back. Your breathing calms as well, leaving the rain as the only sound between you. In this ambience, it doesn’t take long for you to cry yourself dry and pull away from his shoulder.

Kon sighs, and his hand goes to the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for pushing you to talk about this. I thought it’d make you feel better, but all I’ve done is make you cry.”

You laugh dryly. “It’s not your fault. This was a long time coming.” Even though he only touched on the tip of the iceberg of your issues, you feel at least a little better.

“And if you ever want to talk more about it, I’m here for you,” he says, fingers linking with yours. The small gesture of affection brings a smile to your face. What did you ever do to deserve someone so wonderful?

“Thank you so much,” you say, breathless. "For everything."

He brushes off your acknowledgement. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

"Yeah, it's just..." You know this is the best chance you'll get to explain yourself, but the words to do so don't come easy. Silence stretches through the room while you struggle to put your thoughts together. Taking a deep breath, you muster your courage and say it:

“Kon, the reason I don’t have any family is that I’m not a natural gem.”

He blinks at you, and for a second you think that you have made the worst decision of your life. But then he smiles as bright as the sun and hugs you to his side. “I don’t care about that. I care about _you_ ,” he reassures, squeezing your shoulder.

“But I was made in a lab!” You lament, not expecting such a casual response to your confession. 

“Yeah, so was I,” he replies. “It wasn't fun either.”

A crack of lightning outside highlights your shock.

“A _lab sapphire?!_ ” You gasp. “But you’re so... _perfect_.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” he counters.

Ignoring his ridiculous claim, you bring to attention the most prominent of your concerns. “You have powers, though! Do you know how rare that is?” Sapphires are the most difficult gem to grow; most barely finish the process alive, much less as well-equipped as Kon.

“I think that's what they were going for,” he mutters. A dark look shadows his eyes as thunder rolls in the distance. You don't know what to make of it, and it's gone as soon as it came.

Flabbergasted, you try to assess his response. They’re engineering gems with special abilities now? Who knows what kind of suffering Kon had to endure in that process? Are there other gems like him? And who was responsible for producing these gems? You open your mouth to express your curiosity, but Kon stops you short.

“Let's just forget about this," he urges. "How about I read you something to pass the time?”

His offer catches you off guard. You can't remember the last time someone read you a story, but you agree nonetheless. "Let me choose the book, though. I don't want you to spoil a series for yourself." You pick the box from the ground and set it in your lap. After returning your journal to its rightful place at the bottom of the stack, you look through the several remaining titles. From all the tomes of mystery, drama, romance, and sci-fi, you decide on a subtle but intriguing pseudo-fantasy novella. You toss it to Kon.

"Let's do this one; I remember it having good reviews."

Kon arches a brow at the title but cracks it open. "What is it about?"

You shrug. “I don’t know. Something magical, I hope. If it’s depressing, we can choose a different one.”

The abundance of throw pillows comes in handy as you lie back against the bay of the window. Kon adjusts as well, resting his right ankle over his left knee. You notice that he doesn't move back to his side of the cushion and are comforted by that. His decision to remain near you comes from a place of caring. The thought warms your heart as he begins to read.

"Youthful Justness: Part One, Section One, Chapter One…" His voice is soothing in conjunction with the sounds of the weakening storm. Thunder no longer shakes the ground and the rain has subsided into a gentle shower. A final burst of lightning illuminates the room as he continues. "The sun set behind him, casting rose and amethyst hues into the sky. This was the day of the young sapphire's departure..."

 

***

 

Despite the slow pace of the exposition, you find yourself engrossed in the novel. It's an adventure shared between protagonists that live their lives to help others. Kon seems to enjoy it even more than you do. Ever so often he'll point something out to you, whether it be a semblance to one of his experiences or a particularly interesting feat of the main character. You get a feeling that he must have read this book before, yet his interest amuses you too much to chose a different book.

"Honestly, if I was there I could totally take these guys down, two seconds flat," Kon claims. You're currently sitting beside him, for he has the book open in his lap. You're discussing the powers of the protagonist in comparison to his own. So far they are uncannily similar, but you're not convinced just yet.

"Maybe that's true, but that doesn't mean you can shoot lasers out of your eyes!" You elbow him playfully. "That's pretty out there, even for you."

"Oh really?" He asks, incredulously. "You want to bet on that?" The look in his eyes is devilishly mischievous. You lean in, taking the bait.

"Maybe I do," you tempt. Your gaze locks with his, and tensions rise between you. Through the staring contest, it becomes harder and harder to hold in your laughter. It doesn't help that Kon has almost completely closed the distance between you. The realization sends a flush of heat through your veins and you break into uncontrollable giggles. Your shoulders shake so hard you fall to your side and into the throw pillows.

When your breathing slows and you come to your senses, Kon is hovering above you with a stupid grin on his face. You roll onto your back to face him. From this angle, his eyes almost seem to glow in the low light. You never got tired of looking into them; their ultramarine shine was unmatched by any other.

You're so hypnotized by his eyes that you don't notice the hand coming up to cup the side of your face. He's so gentle that it takes some encouragement to get him run his thumb over the crest of your cheek. You shudder under his slight touch and meet his eyes again, only to see that his eyes are on your lips. Suddenly you're on fire, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

_He's going to kiss you! He's actually going to kiss you!_

You let your eyes drift shut as his nose brushes yours. The anticipation is on the verge of killing you as his lips near yours. You can practically feel them just as—

A knock on the front door jars you from the moment, and without missing a beat, Kon disappears from above you. You hear your heart beating in your ears over the sound of the door opening. Dazed, you roll off the seat and attempt to gain your bearings. Your breath is still coming out in short huffs as you march to the foyer. From there, you can see out to your porch where Kon is exchanging hushed words with your sworn rival. The last traces of the storm linger in her hair and are flung off when she shakes her head indignantly. It looks as though she's arguing with him, but you can't quite grasp the subject of their conversation. They both fall silent at your approach.

You don't know what to make of that other than to cast a glare in Lophi's direction. She's dressed in what you can only assume is battle attire. You don't fail to notice the knife sheath on her hip or the shield and spears on her back. It doesn't intimidate you, not in the slightest. You cross your arms over your chest. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Lophi doesn't flinch at your harsh tone. Instead, she glances furtively between the two of you before speaking. "Conner and I have business to attend to, if you don't mind." She doesn't seem annoyed, but there is urgency in her voice.

You narrow your eyes at her claim but relent under Kon's apologetic gaze.

"Sorry, (Name). This is important," he admits, shoving his hands in his pockets. "We kinda have to go. Now."

There are so many questions you want to ask, yet some inhibition holds your tongue as they walk down to the horse-drawn cart waiting at the edge of your property. Especially after what _almost_ happened inside, it would be best not to rush the discussion of your mounting concerns. You try not to look so forlorn as Kon waves to you from the carriage before slipping out of view.

After watching them ride away, you step back inside and shut the door. Taking a moment to curse Lophi and her horrendous timing, you return to the living room. Funny how much emptier it feels without him beside you. It takes a few minutes of rustling through your book boxes to find an unused bookmark which you promptly slide into Youthful Justness. You toss the book to the coffee table, then turn to the box of books that still rests on the floor. It's tempting to just return it to the shelf, continue to let it collect dust. Yet, there is a tugging sensation in your stomach that wants you to pull your journal from the stack. You ignore the feeling for now, picking up the box and placing it on the highest shelf. You'd had enough emotional turmoil for one day.

The rest of the afternoon is spent as usual, your time divided between baking and household chores. The plums from the morning are cut into preserve jars to be used in tomorrow's cobbler. You move on to the more neglected parts of the house that need cleaning. Closets are organized, floors are swept, and when you're certain that the desk in your study is free of dust, you decide that it is high time to get some sleep.

Rolling into bed, you do your best to put away the thoughts of your almost-kiss with Kon. It's a matter best left discussed tomorrow; no use worrying over it now. Still, you can't help but wonder what Kon and Lophi are up to. Neither of them show signs of romantic attraction to one another, but their mysterious abscondence arouses suspicion in you. You don't know what to make of it, so you make a mental note to ask him tomorrow, along with all the rest of your queries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy this story, leave a kudo!


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